So if you’re reading this now it means you’ve most likely been directed here from my Facebook and/or Instagram post. Welcome to my blog, the water is usually warm here so feel free to swim around, but seriously no pressure. Okay, let’s get to the point.
I’m leaving my job as the youth minister in Bozeman at the end of June.
I am stepping away simply because I have felt called to move on for awhile now and I’ve just been avoiding stepping into the unknown.
So that is the answer to the next inevitable question that I’m sure some of you have: What will I be doing next? That’s the exciting and terrifying part, I don’t know. There are a couple of things in the works, but for right now I am leaving one thing with no idea of what comes next and if that makes you anxious, trust me it makes me 100 times more anxious than you. So now you may be asking, “Why are you doing this then?” Because I am being asked to put my trust wholeheartedly in God and for too long I’ve been straddling the doorway, telling myself that I would only leave when I knew exactly what I would be doing next. However life doesn’t always work that way and God had other plans for me (and I’m sure was shaking his head at my stubbornness). I love what I do and I love the ministry that I serve in, that hasn’t changed, but I am being asked to step out of the doorway and trust more fully, and while totally terrifying, I truly am excited for what will come next.
Now that I’ve ripped that bandaid off, what I really want to say is thank you…so without further ado…
To the Bozeman community: You welcomed me with open arms (and in some cases open homes) when I arrived here on an August day 8 years ago. I truly had no idea what to expect then, but I know now that Bozeman will always be a place for me to call home. I grew up as an adult and as a youth minister here, I failed (sometimes really hard) here, but I became all the stronger for it, I learned so much about myself and ministry here. I was blessed to see a church remodeled and a new church built, to see the communities grow and support each other through hard times and joyful times. To meet 6th graders new to middle school only to watch them graduate from high school and go onto college. To see former high school freshman grow to be tremendous disciples and peer leaders because of the example set for them by their older peers. To see young men and women graduate from high school then college only to take the world head on. I have stories to last me a lifetime and memories to last me two.
For the parishes and parishioners, for the staff at Holy Rosary and Resurrection, for the other youth pastors and youth ministry community in Bozeman, for their sage wisdom and lively conversations, thank you for welcoming me in and for all you do for our community here.
For the parents: thank you for trusting me with your children. Thank you for the hours of time you spent helping me find my way, for the phone calls and emails and driving and snacks provided. Thank you for wanting more for your child’s faith formation and thank you for challenging me to do more and be better. I know I didn’t always accomplish everything you and I would have liked, but I hope we at least made a start. I can only ask that you continue to help whoever comes next, and please know I couldn’t do even an ounce of what I do without you. Thank you so very much.
For the young people (current and former*)…I’ll be really honest, I’ve written and re-written this over and over, and I’ll never get it quite right, but I want to tell you that you’re incredible. I know sometimes I frustrate you, I know you don’t always understand my pop culture references (because I’m old), and I know sometimes I make you roll your eyes so hard you’re not sure they’ll roll back around. But I need you to know it has been the greatest privilege of my life so far, that I have been able to laugh with you, to share dumb stories with you, car rides, bible studies, games, tears, and most importantly to pray with and for you. My greatest ministers/teachers were the ones who walked with me through life rather than just “preached at me” I hope that I was able to show you Christ at least once through my actions more than words. A person gets into youth ministry for many reasons, but youth ministers can all agree that they want to share the Gospel with young people and doing so is a joy that can rarely be matched. But no one ever tells the youth ministers that there are a lot of phone calls, staff meetings, emails, organization, fundraisers, and the like, just to spend that 1-2 hours per week with the young people. But every youth minister I know understands that all that behind the scenes work is totally worth it to spend time with you because you, young person, are totally worth it. Always. Every week. Even when I was tired and yelled at you. It was ALWAYS worth it. I will miss you all dearly, in a way that will make you all roll your eyes even more. I want you to know that I am endlessly proud to know each and every one of you. I ask that you continue to pray and maybe throw a prayer or two my way, and rest assured you will be in mine. I hope that you seek Christ in all things, don’t be afraid to ask questions and challenge the answers, encounter the sacraments, participate in the Mass, and be kind to others.
That last bit is applicable to everyone.
After June I will be back in Kalispell finishing out some things, praying and searching for what’s next, and spending time with my stupid adorable nephew who is growing too fast. Please don’t hesitate to reach out and I promise when I know what’s next, you’ll know what’s next.
Until next time…
Kelly
*”former” just means you’re my former youth…you’re still younger than me, which I know you’ll gladly point out to me when you get the chance.
I don’t like making New Year’s Resolutions, mainly because I think that the New Year is arbitrary and people should mark a new year in a way that is important to their lives. I will say that the goal for me is always that I try to make the world a better place, for my part. I don’t think that I’m always successful, but I think that trying and failing are just as important, maybe even more so, if only for the fact that it allows me to be reflective and self-aware. But I digress…
February is commonly the month associated with love, mostly because…you know…Valentine’s Day. Now I know this may surprise some of you who know me, but I really do love Valentine’s Day, not for all the romance and what have you, but really because I think that it is an excellent opportunity to tell those you love that you love them. Call me cheesy but I think that love spans much further than that of romantic love and to hell with those that try to convince me otherwise I’m looking at all the stores that have had red and pink lining their aisles since Dec 26th and Kay Jewelers. All throughout my school life and long after it was required I usually took it upon myself to send valentines to all my friends, be it something small or something large, chocolate, Crush orange soda, or those brilliant High School Musical cardboard valentine cards. But I’ve lost touch with this tradition and would like to do something a little more drastic this time around.
I’ve been looking around the world recently and I have realized that I just don’t think one day dedicated to love is enough, so I’m extending it to 14 days. Please know I don’t think 14 days is enough, every day should be a day dedicated love, but bear with me.
Starting tomorrow (Feb 1st) I will highlight someone in my life who I love and a little as to why I love them. Normally I would just do this without any fanfare, but I want everyone to know about these fabulous people in my life, and I think that we could all use a little more love on the inter webs. So stay tuned as I will update this post every day with a new person.
Here goes nothing…
First a couple of guidelines that needed to be created to help me formulate my list.
No immediate family…mostly this is due to the fact that I tend to love on them on their birthdays but also because they would take up five days in this venture…and honestly…it seemed too easy to utilize them and I wanted to challenge myself further. Now this isn’t to say that I don’t love my family. I do. Very much. And I know I’ve already gushed about them in previous posts so go and check out the archives. The next guideline is that I can’t post anything about the person that they wouldn’t want on the internet…made a smidge difficult as they are finding out who they are at the same time you are dear reader! Surprise!
Day 1
Krista
Krista is one of my oldest friends. This is not hyperbole, but fact, I have known Krista since we were about 4 years old. There is something so astonishing about the fact that I have known this person for so long, we’ve been through a lot together and not for nothing the friendship survived both middle and high school. And because of that simple fact I knew that college would be no different. It is always comforting to know that there is a person in the world who knows you like the back of your hand, that time and distance can separate you physically but because of your shared history and strength of friendship when reconnected there is nothing awkward just friends catching up on life and discussing new adventures.
Krista is one of the strongest people I know. I cannot aptly put into words what I know to be innately true, but if you know her or you get the chance to know her, this will become evident to you very quickly. I have been with her through first loves and heartbreaks, laughter and tears, weird eating habits (Kraft Mac & Cheese powder on popcorn, it’sa thing), holidays, backyard campouts and so much more. She has been more of a support to me than she probably knows, but on the good and the bad days she always just knows, and what more could you possibly need in a friend. She is kind and beautiful both inside and out, and she has this ability to make those around her feel as if they are the most special and beautiful people in the world. It’s why I know that she is loved and treasured by so many.
Something she may or may not know is that she was my champion through late elementary and middle school, the friend that stood up to those who sought to bring me down for whatever reason they may have had for the day. From her I learned the value of self-confidence and to stand up for myself, but that it was okay to crack from time to time, we’re all only human. I could love her for this reason and this reason alone, but there is so much more. I’ve watched her become a wife and a mother, and have seen the joy that radiates from her when she is with her daughter. Krista has a lot of strong women in her life and I know that they helped form who she is, and I thank them too, because Krista is one of the strong women in my life and has shaped it permanently. Without her I don’t know who I’d be. I am thankful everyday for the people in my life that have helped me up when I’ve fallen down, and today I am especially thankful for Krista and all that she is. Krista, thank you for being such a beautiful example to me of what it means to be a good sister, a generous wife, a loving mother, and a strong and kind-hearted friend I love you.
Day 2
George
George is the gent on the left.
George is one of those friends that you just look around and the next thing you know you’ve got this new friend! You’re not entirely sure how they entered into your life, but you sure are happy that they are there.
I met George his Freshman (my Junior) year at Carroll. Now I will fully admit, that I was not George’s biggest fan when I first met him. We bumped along just fine but for the most part he wasn’t a person that I would have gone out of my way to spend time with. (Don’t worry George already knows this…we laugh about it often). Somewhere along the road of knowing George we entered into a friendship and at one point I remember thinking to myself, “Hey when did you become friends with this guy?” and then promptly responding, “Does it matter? He’s great!” and from that point I never looked back (or at least over analyzed).
George has taught me a lot in life, not the least of which was how to solve a Rubik’s Cube my last semester of college, but mostly he’s taught me that it isn’t always about having the words but that being present to a friend is the most important thing. When my grandfather passed away outside of talking to my family the only other person in the world I wanted to tell was George, because I knew he wouldn’t smother me, he’d just sit with me, help me stand back up, and take the time to check back in. I don’t think I would have survived the rest of that summer without him. To this day he is still one of the first people I reach out to, when I just need someone to be there for me. And that’s just another one of George’s best qualities, he’s dependable, you can always count on him to make you laugh, give you a hug, sing with, pray with you, play a board game, watch a movie, and nerd out endlessly with.
George is a passionate person, when he loves something the world knows it, because he’s not quiet about what he loves, he is unashamed of what loves, and it’s beautiful and as a husband and a father I know that it is such a gift to his family. I greatly admire him for this, he’s taught me to not be afraid, to love what I love and not apologize for it. He loves loudly, something I think that we could use more of in this world, and more than that he loves with his whole heart. George, thank you for loving fully and loudly and for always being a rock in the storms of my life. Love you brother.
Day 3
Rachael
Photo by: Molly Minnerath
Have you ever had a friend that is like a burst of fresh air in a stale room AND a ray of sunshine at the same time? The friend that when they smile it seems like all of your burdens become a little lighter and your heart swells in your chest? I hope you have that friend and if you don’t I hope you find that friend. Rachael is that for me. Whenever I think about Rachael three words pop into my head almost simultaneously, sparkle, rainbow, and explosion.
Sparkle, because she has this ability to light up a room with a smile, a hug, a song. My face keeps breaking into a stupid grin every time I think of her and sparkle. Honestly it’s hard to describe, but I will tell you that if you’ve ever met Rachael I bet you’re reading this and nodding your head. She’s like a cold freshly fallen snow, you know the kind that is powdery and soft, it is beautiful, no matter the angle, now matter the light, and it brightens up the dark, and when the sun is shining, this snow, that’s already beautiful, becomes even more beautiful catching the light and making everything it covers look like it has new life and new purpose. That’s why Rachael sparkles.
Rainbow, because I grew up living in a valley – like an actual geographical valley – and while it’s nice to grow up surrounded by mountains, in the winter there are a lot of grey days. And when spring rains comeit’s just more grey, but then you get these days where the clouds roll in and the rain comes then the sun breaks through, and you have a beautiful rainbow. It’s relieving because you know there is something out there and beyond and that even grey days have their purpose if only to allow for the rainbows in life. Rachael has been a rainbow in many of my life’s grey days. Her warmth and kindness are extended to all and her smile comes easily to her face, almost as if it’s always meant to be there. Rachael has taught me what compassion really looks like, and what kindness really is; so many days has she sat with me while I poured out anger and frustration, and all those days I walked away feeling like a totally brand new person, because she was willing to sit and listen and then kindly remind me of who I am a nudge me back in that direction.
Lastly explosion- I know this may seem like an odd choice, but it makes sense to me. It’s like a recipe for fun; you take a room full of friends prepping for a night out, add Rachael with her sparkle and rainbow-ness and boom you have a good time just bursting at the seams. I have yet to have an experience with Rachael when we’re out to dinner, out on the town, or even sitting at home, where I don’t think to myself the next morning, “Man last night was a blast.” It just never happens because she is a happy additive to everything and the best part is that it’s JUST WHO SHE IS. And I cannot wait for the next adventure.
Rachael, thank you for the hugs and shoulder to cry on, for the nights of dancing and endless laughter, for running through the sprinklers with me, and so much more. I love you.
Day 4
Megan
Every summer while I was growing up I went to camp at this magical place called Legendary Lodge. The fun part about the Lodge was that not only was it on a lake and in a beautiful location but mostly because I got to meet new people. One of my last summers at camp I met this gal named Megan, we were seated next to each other at dinner. I didn’t know Megan, but Megan seemed to know everyone else who happened to be sitting with us that evening, and I was in awe of the way that she easily navigated the conversations at the table. Laughing at jokes, bringing up old stories, but most importantly making everyone feel included in the conversation. Honestly after that night and after that week I had very little contact with Megan, until my freshman year of college.
Freshman year I re-met Megan, but it didn’t even feel like a reconnection, and I know that this seems to be a trend, but it was like one day she was just there and the next day we were talking via phone or MSN messenger every day. The incredible thing is that Megan remembered that night at camp and that dinner, and so for all intents and purposes we tell people that we met at camp, and for me at least, that is where I started to get to know Megan.
Megan is a people person, and is unafraid to jump in the conversation and meet new people. She puts me to shame when it comes to being an extrovert, but if I have learned anything about myself in life, it’s that even those most extraverted people, need their introverted days, we just usually like to do that around other people. I have always, always, admired Megan’s ease of fitting in and more so her quick inclusion of others. Megan is a gentle and loving person and that is reflected in her heart and in her soul.She’s taught me so much about myself over the years, but if I had to pick the one that seems to be the most important to me right now it’s that Megan taught me what true, honest vulnerability is. That emotions aren’t something to be afraid of but lived and that being vulnerable doesn’t make you weak, but rather makes you strong.
Megs, we’ve lived through a lot together, laughed, and cried, made mac n’ cheese, watched good and really bad movies, shopped, wandered, and laid in bed for hours just swapping stories and looking back on the path that our lives have lead us on. Thank you for loving me when I know I wasn’t always the most easy to love, thank you for listening, and thank you for sometimes just knowing that I needed to get up and get out. I am so incredibly proud to be your friend, and I love you.
Day 5
Nick
The first time that I ever met Nick he was standing in line at the student services office at Boston College, and he wanted to talk to them about the type of parking pass that he needed to buy for his summer of school. I remember thinking to myself, “Well this guy seems super self-assured.” Fast forward two days as we are dishing up clam chowder during lunch and I mentioned that there could never be such a thing as too many oyster crackers when it came to clam chowder. He looked up across the table at me and said, “I like the cut of your jib sailor.” My immediate response, “I think we’re going to be good friends.” He smiled and we sat down and were officially introduced by a mutual friend of ours. Little did I know that it would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship (that would really only span 6 weeks a summer for possibly three years).
Nick is a sarcastic, sassy, dude with a dry sense of humor and a love for dogs. Minus the dog thing, we’re pretty much a match made in friendship heaven. Nick is the kind of person that doesn’t want you to know that he has a heart of gold, but with just a little prodding you can quickly see that this is simply just not true. Nick is honest; sometimes to a fault and with his honesty comes an argumentative side. But even that is something that I cherish in him as a friend, because he’ll never be passive aggressive with you, but tell it like it is, and while he may seem like he doesn’t care for your feelings, he really does. He’s also not afraid to be told how you feel honestly, because he understands that the mark of a respectful friendship is that you can’t be the honest friend if you don’t appreciate when the honestly is turned on you. Did I mention he’s a Franciscan Friar?
Nick is an incredibly genuine human being and his friendship reminded me that you don’t always need something to last forever, but that sometimes the friends you meet and make in a particular time and point in your life, may only exist in that time and space, and that’s okay. There is beauty in knowing, embracing, and practicing friendship in the short term. If it continues past what would normally be it’s expiration date, then great, but if it doesn’t that’s okay too, because you know that somewhere out in the world is a person who you will remember fondly without feeling guilty about having lost touch. I think we sometimes forget that this is a necessary part of our growing up. Thank you Nick for always being quick with a joke, for your friendship for three summers, for engaging in enlightening and enriching theological conversation with me, and for always being willing to grab a beer with me at the end of a long school day. Blessings on you my friend wherever life may lead you. I love you.
Day 6
Karen
There are so many places to begin, and yet I can’t seem to nail down where to begin when talking about Karen, so maybe I’ll just start in the middle.
Karen is a go-getter, she is the most committed person I have ever met. Seriously, she’s the type of person that sets her mind to do something and then makes it happen, and quickly too. She’s adaptable and humble and get things done. I’m sure most people have heard the Dane Cook joke about having a friend named Karen, and I am here to tell you that, that just doesn’t apply to my friend Karen. Also, Karen is hilarious, intentionally or unintentionally, it doesn’t matter, she just is.
Karen was my compatriot in ministry for many years and while I miss having her here with me in Montana she married a stellar guy and is currently kicking a** and taking names as high school teacher. Karen probably doesn’t know this but she helped reignite my passion for ministry, professionally and personally. She challenged me to grow in my own personal formation and in doing so spurred me onto to greater and more worthy endeavors in youth ministry. How lucky am I to have that in a friend? Stupid lucky. And more times than I can count she got me out of my own head, and reminded me that I am young and that sometimes it’s okay to put the work and troubles aside, and to go out and dance with your friends. She taught me to live and to celebrate what it means to be alive and to seize opportunities when they come along. It’s a gift I can only hope to repay in time.
Karen has such strength of character and heart that you always feel supported as her friend, even when time passes and distance separates you. Karen, thank you for being such a good friend, for always having my back, and for continually pushing me past my comfort zone to remind me that there is always more and that maybe that ‘more’ is exactly where I need to be. Thank you for sharing cute animal pictures and .gifs, for staying up late, for laughing about ridiculous things, and most importantly for your friendship. Love you KRN!
Day 7
Jake and Tiff
Yes, I am aware that I am using multiple people on one day. But they are married, so it counts. Also this is my thing and I make up the rules. Moving on…
Thinking about my friendship with Jake and Tiff is kind of like a riddle that makes perfect sense, but will also make your brain hurt, because it doesn’t sound simple. As friends I have always had the pleasure of knowing them as individuals, but also at the same time as a couple. I knew Jake from college, but didn’t really befriend him until his last couple of months in school when a mutual friend suggested we meet to talk about ministry, but by that point I had met Tiff and knew that she and Jake were an item. Though it wasn’t until after that initial coffee date that I really got to know Tiff because we worked at camp together (this is only made more confusing by the fact that Tiff and I both lived in the same town). Don’t think about it too much, because the end result is that I was blessed with wonderful friends.
There is always something special about having friends who are married or in a relationship where you have solid friendships with both parties individually, but also a solid relationship with them together as a couple. I’m never going to be able to it justice with words on a page, but just trust me, it’s special and Jake and Tiff are one of those couples, (and I’m lucky to have many of those in my life).I love that when I go to visit them and spend time with them that it’s just as easy to hang out with them as a couple as it is to do so individually, and really it’s a gift to the people in their lives that they make it so easy.
Tiff is this beautiful effervescent soul, that just welcomes you in with a smile. She’ll always keep you laughing even through the rough spots in life. She’s unafraid and unapologetic to be who she is and just being around her makes you want to live as authentically as possible.
Jake has a hundred watt smile that draws people to him, though it’s really just because you can sense his genuine happiness through it. As a friend he will joke and make you laugh and quietly listen to you as you vent frustration or hurt, and his gentle presence is always a comfort even when he doesn’t say anything.
And together, Jake and Tiff are still those exemplary people but magnified, because they are warm and authentic, and everything that makes them great as individuals makes them even better as a married couple. They will sit and laugh at and with you (trust me I need to be laughed at) they will challenge each other and you, and they will simply love you. One last story to better illustrate how phenomenal they are; they were married during the summer of 2014 and it is the first wedding, of good friends, I had ever missed. The reason for missing was because I had been accepted to a grad school program that would take me across the country for the summer, and it just wasn’t financially feasible to fly back for their wedding. When it became official that I had been accepted into the program after telling my bosses and my family, I wanted to tell them, partially because I wanted to share the good news, but also because I wanted them to know. We’d all known that it was a possibility and through it all they cheered me on and encouraged me because they knew that this was a big deal for me. I don’t remember if I told them or not, but their excitement and happiness for me was something that bolstered my spirit that entire summer. They have reminded me time and time again that love and friendship can support and lift a person up, no matter the mileage that is between them. Jake and Tiff, thank you for always supporting me, for cheering me on, and for welcoming me into your lives and into your home. Thank you for being you and authentically sharing that with me and all those you encounter. I love you guys!
P.S. Jake and Tiff also welcomed into the world a beautiful baby girl a couple of weeks ago, and I know that they are going to be amazing parents, because they are amazing friends.
Day 8
Steph
Have you ever sat and had a ten hour marathon of Friends, and thought to yourself how lucky it is that all those guys seemingly found each other as roommates? For any person who’s ever had to look for a roommate or replace a roommate there is no better episode than when Chandler is trying to find a new roommate and ends up with crazy Eddie. I have lucked out in the roommate department many a time, but my first apartment-mate was a match made in Friends heaven. Seriously, that ten hour marathon I speak of, it happened with her and yes we definitely ordered in Chinese food. Stephanie is the Phoebe would-be, actually Monica of my life.
I actually met Stephanie because I was friends with her older brother and now sister-in-law in college, then life brought us together again for two fabulous years of apartment living and I am all the better for it. Steph is one of those friends that has such a fantastic work ethic, that just being in a room with her will make you want to better yourself; to test your own limits. She’s the type of person that when she sits in a room she elevates it, elevates the conversation, elevates the respect, elevates kindness, etc, but she’s not asking for this to be the case, I’ve just found over the years that people want to be better when they are around her. She inspires everyone to be the best version of themselves, and she does this with kindness and love.
Steph is one of the most thoughtful people that I have ever met, she will send you a care package just because, or bake you cookies, or write wonderful notes of encouragement on your mirror just to give you a pick me up. She asks for very little in return, but that won’t stop her from graciously accepting the gratitude that is heaped upon her. Steph thank you for showing me what true kindness is, for allowing me and so many others into your heart, for laughing with me and crying with me, and for always being willing to sing stupid songs out loud just because we could. Thank you for showing me what deliberate outreach and care for others can really do for a person. Because you’ve got that one thing. Love you Stephanie.
Day 9
Eric
My senior year of college I was lucky enough to have a week off in the fall, cleverly referred to as Fall Break. It was early October and I was out of my skin excited to be getting on a plane to spend a week in the Big Apple. But really I was excited to spend a week in exploring the city with my pal Eric, who was spending the semester there doing an internship. The week was a blast, not to mention totally gorgeous, seriously the weather that week was phenomenal, and the memories I made there will last a lifetime and that is due to the fact that I spent the week exploring with Eric.
I’ve known Eric for a while, since somewhere between 8th and 9th grade, and we’ve adventured A LOT. We went to Europe after high school graduation for World Youth Day, we had a last minute Spring Break road trip in college, not to mention the countless retreats, driving to and from home, and all the things in between. It has been a pretty splendid adventure, one that is now filled with marriage and fatherhood, beer and music. It reminds me that growing older is always made better when you can do it with friends like Eric.
I could reminisce for days, re-hashing old stories of this and that, but let’s be honest that would really only be fun for a few people. So let me get to it, Eric is a dreamer, he dreams big and somehow even when the dreams don’t seem to work out as planned, they always seem to work out better. I would attribute this to Eric’s determination, he’s always looking to make the world a better place for those who live in it, and he does this simply by doing what he loves. Eric is a photographer and the way he views the world is full of light and optimism, every time I see his shots I see beauty and love and hope. Eric is a musician, he started a band, because he loves music and just wanted to share it with other people, now their CD is in constant rotation in my parents music collection and the crowds they draw when playing around town is like a reunion of old friends; they bring people together. Eric is the friend that always knew just how to keep me distracted, to keep me involved, to not let me collapse in on myself when the going got rough. Most of the time I don’t think he even has a clue if I’m having a bad day or not, but that’s the day I get a snapchat with his “sweater of the day” or his oldest son drawn to look like Batman. This is Eric, he just wants to share what he sees with the world and it’s always thoughtful, sometimes profound, always funny. Eric, thank you for your continued friendship, for always being there with a beer and a smile, for showing me how to dream bigger, and for always giving me hope. Love you brother.
PS Remember that one time in NYC when we walked past people filming Friday Night Lights, or the time we filmed a music video in Brooklyn, or the time we played on the Big piano in FAO Schwartz?!
Day 10
Raven
Working in ministry is one of the best jobs in the world, because if you’re like me, you enjoy forming relationships based on faith with all sorts of people. For me it’s mostly high school aged kids. And every once in a while you meet a kid who’s just got a light, a light so bright that you look at them and think to yourself, “That kid is going places,” and sometimes that bright light of a person sticks around in your life and you become one of the lucky people that get to witness their ascent from awesome high schooler to awesome young adult, and if you’re even more lucky you get to walk with them through it all.
Meet Raven.
I met Raven when she came across the channel to attend her very first leadership camp at Legendary Lodge. It was my first week of camp as a counselor and her first week of camp ever. We struck up a conversation about why she came to camp, and she told me she wanted to grow in her faith and hopefully help others grow in theirs, but it wasn’t easy because she’d had to arrange to take all of her high school finals early in order to come to camp for the week. Little did I know that, that conversation would lead to 10 years of walking with and growing in faith together.
Raven will make you smile and sometimes make you cry because, well, she just reaches into your heart and pulls right at the string which most needs pulling. She’s patient and kind and always knows just what you need. She’ll always listen to you, even while you ramble and try as I might to deflect from answering the question she asks, she’ll always bring me right back to it. Growing up with brothers I never really wanted a little sister, but I found one with Raven, and learned very quickly what I had been missing out on, and for that too I am grateful.
Raven is a burst of sunshine when she walks into a room, everyone is drawn to her because she is always warm and kind to all those she meets. Raven is strong and loves fiercely and those who have experienced this, know that she will be there for you regardless, she’s that person you call knowing she will stop whatever she’s doing and be there for you. She’s shown me what true sacrificial love is, and to put it bluntly, if anyone in the world has taught me what it means to reflect the love of Christ, and to lay down one’s life, it’s Raven.
Raven, I cannot thank you enough for all the light and love that you have brought into my life the last 10 years, but I can only hope and pray for many more years of dancing, laughing, crying, praying, friendship, and whatever else life throws our way. I love you.
Day 11
Lauren and Eugen
I have some of the best married friends and these two are no exception. I have been blessed by their friendship since college, though Lauren and I met at camp initially, it wasn’t until I transferred to Carroll where I found friendship with both of them.
Eugene and I “officially” met in our moral theology class and right away I knew it was going to be a good semester, mostly because Eugene wasn’t afraid to speak his mind in class, and to challenge all of us in our way of thinking. It also helped that he was snarky and was always willing to continue the conversation post class over food or beer. Lauren and I never had class together because she is much smarter than me, and highly gifted in the science department, but that didn’t stop us from becoming friends who enjoyed joking around and being a goofy as possible.
I can’t sing their praises enough because they’ve just been fabulous friends and humans and have always been willing to sit and hang, or play board games, grab a beer, sit quietly and listen intently, or just swap stories and chill. After Lauren and Eugene got married they moved to Boston for school opportunities and life, and I would be lying if I said that didn’t play a big part in my desire to attend Boston College for grad school. After a couple of years of Skype dates and trying to catch each other during holidays I was going to be able to see them on a regular basis for six weeks every summer…and let me just say, it was magical.
Both Lauren and Eugene are my sounding board, they listen as I talk about life and ministry andthey both have always encouraged me to follow my dreams. Eugene is the friend that pushes me not to just plan for something in the future but just to do it, and that it okay if it’s not perfect the first time around, that the important thing is to just start. Lauren is quieter about it she encourages me to be realistic, to try new things, but most of all that its okay to be afraid of stepping out your front door into a new and unknown adventure.
Thank you both for your friendship and advice. For pushing me to be the best that I can be, for nerding out for hours about Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. For spending hilarious amounts of time watching soccer and playing board games, for walking around downtown Boston just catching up and for all the moments in between. Love you guys!
Day 12
Alex
Part of me really wants to just post a picture and leave it at that, with no explanation, just a picture and a blank page. Those who know Alex would probably laugh, because they know, but I feel whatever world is reading these posts without knowing would just be confused, also that would be the easy way out.
Alex is the friend that probably infuriates me the most, but really it’s just because our personalities are very opposite in certain respects. Alex takes his time, and I never realized how much I needed to learn how to sit in silence with another person until he came along. I also wouldn’t have really considered my self a “planner” until Alex showed me that sometimes trusting in the Lord, means not having a thousand back-up plans, but that sometimes you just have to take the plunge.And while he may infuriate me, I wouldn’t want anyone else in my life to remind me to take a deep breath, say a prayer, listen, and it’s okay to take your time.
I first met Alex when I volunteered at camp and we got plopped into a small group to be co-leaders together. Sometimes he wouldn’t be at small group and the times that he was there he usually just let me take the lead, this was the first time I became infuriated with him, but he quickly diffused my annoyance when he told me that I didn’t need him to take the lead, that I was doing well and that I didn’t need his permission to guide our small group. How else was I going to know if I could do it if I wasn’t allowed to at least try? How could I be mad at him for allowing me to try? How could I be mad at him, when it wasn’t because he was lazy but because he understood that it wasn’t about him, but the young people we were working with, our goal was the same, it didn’t matter who was helping guide them along. In a two minute conversation (which he definitely doesn’t remember) I learned more about ministry and myself than I would have previously believed possible.
Alex, thank you for showing me what trust is, thank you for being patient with me and in turn teaching me when to push and when to wait. Thank you for your presence in my life, and thank you for continuing to do the good works of the Lord around the world. Love you friend and peace in Christ.
Day 13
The Trediks
One of the best parts of my job is that it brings people from all over and in all walks of life together. I met the Tredik family 6 years ago when they were dropping their kids off at camp, and if you had told me then that they would become a second family to me, honestly, I totally would have believed you. They are pretty stellar humans and I am forever blessed that as my ministry continued and grew that they became more involved and our lives intersected more and more. They are kind and generous, hospitable and loving, and I am continually thankful that this career in which I was called to has brought me such rich and beautiful relationships and community.
Craig and Diane are two of the most wonderful people in the world. They are kind and generous and love their boys fiercely. I cannot tell you how many times they have sat and listened to me drone on and on about ministry. They are excellent sounding boards but also excellent ministers themselves. Their hearts are open to all those they meet (young and old) and they always want to make sure that you’re getting what you need. They are fantastic parents and they are inspiring to many, parents and non-parents alike. Craig and Diane, thank you for all your thoughtful responses, the laughs, and a bed to crash in whenever I need it. Love you guys.
Cody, in all fairness and in full disclosure I did meet Cody first sans family, and I always new that this kid was going places. It has been such a pleasure to see the kind and loving young man who has a heart for ministry he has grown into. Cody is dedicated to all those whom he loves and the things that he loves, we can sit and talk for hours about movies, pop culture, ministry, prayer and everything in between. Cody, thank you for all your prayers and the time spent watching movies and discussing them ad nausea with me. I’m so blessed to have you in my life. Love you.
Spencer, ahhh man Spencer is just one of the funniest people, from texting you memes and hilarious selfies he always knows just what you need to have your spirits lifted. Spencer is also one of the kindest people that I’ve ever met. I know I’ve used the term “kindest” a lot, but if you know Spencer you’ve definitely experienced his giant heart. Spencer, thank you for the laughs and the time spent convincing me that my insecurities are dumb, and then reminding again me when I let them get the better of me. Love you brother.
Spencer, Me, and Mason
Mason well Mason is one of the most convicted humans I have ever met. When he knows what he needs and what others need he will stop at nothing to make it happen. It’s truly inspiring and I know that he will achieve great things. Mason is also sarcastic and witty as hell and it is usually my goal to at least make him chuckle on occasion. At the end of the say though the kid has a heart of gold…it’s just buried under a lot of ice. Mason, thank you for keeping me laughing, for always being willing to deflect from uncomfortable situations or just wallow in them with me, for always being quick with a cynical joke, and thank you for serving our country. Love you brother.
Love you Trediks! (Except Trixy)
Day 14
Rebecca
One age old adage that I heard over and over again in my high school days was, “You’ll meet some of your best friends in college,” and boy, I couldn’t be happier that this adage turned out to be true.
I met Rebecca when I accidentally locked myself off of our floor Freshman year, she was the only one who heard me knocking, she came out iPod in hand and earbud in ear and opened the door. We didn’t exchange anything more than a thank you and you’re welcome, but in maybe another weeks time we were sitting down to lunch together in the Food Zoo, and that my friends is the beginning of our beautiful friendship.
It’s crazy to think that I have known this spectacular human for over ten years and it just goes to show that time only makes us stronger. Rebecca is one of the funniest, nerdiest, kind, and loving humans to ever walk this earth, and I am astounded that dumb luck, fate, or, for me, God brought us together on the 9th floor of Jesse Hall all those years ago. Rebecca has picked me up and dusted me off more times than one should have too and yet she is one of the first people I want to talk to when my day sucks and when my day is good. Our constant nerding out over Harry Potter and other literary and fictional characters cannot be contained (seriously, have you ever seen our Facebook profiles, we share A LOT of stuff). We can sit and watch The West Wing for hours, and she is possibly the only person in the world that I will tolerate cats for. Rebecca is my voice of reason, she reminds always that it’s okay to feel what I’m feeling, and to be unashamed of being hurt or angry, because at the end of the day it’s how you use those emotions for better or for worse that will define what happens next.
Most importantly Rebecca is the glue. She’s the glue that holds our relationship together, I
This picture perfectly sums up Rebecca’s glue-ness
try to not be flaky but even I know that when I have a good thing going I sometimes take it for granted and Rebecca brings me back task. She’s the glue that holds a lot of things together including other friendships, relationships, work, etc. She’s quiet and strong and exceptionally organized, I am envious and inspired by her gentle leadership of others, by her passion for her work and for her support of others in finding their passions. I can most honestly say that I don’t know who I would be without her, she argues with me and even when we don’t agree she has made me more compassionate and understanding to others’ view points. She has helped me excel in what I do, because she listens to all the stuff, even though she doesn’t live in my world of ministry, but her advice knows no bounds and is often just what I need because it’s real world and concrete.
Rebecca, thank you for all the years of love and laughter, thank you for holding us together when I started to drift, and thank you most of all for your kindness and strength of spirit and for teaching me that I can always be better. I love you Pows.
It’s election day. A day of democracy, a day of anxiety, and unfortunately a day filled with fear and hurtful if not hateful rhetoric.
I voted today. I posted a picture on Instagram and Facebook. I had funny tweets about my time standing in line at the polls. I used hashtags.
I took seriously my civic duty, my right as an American citizen of age, I voted. More importantly I took time to read and to prayerfully discern candidates and their platforms, the ballot initiatives for my state and city. As an active, involved Catholic, I formed my conscience. And regardless of the outcome of this day, I find comfort in my faith and knowledge that I did not go against my conscience.
I am sitting here now re-watching for the millionth, okay that’s an exaggeration it’s only my fourth, time the first season of The West Wing, I find myself wrapped up in the world of Aaron Sorkin’s mind trying to find just the right balance of wit, charm, and snark to draft a tweet about Sam Seaborn and Ainsley Hayes, and their fictional (and I believe winnable) presidential campaign. Alas I know that this is not reality, because I keep checking my social media and I am yet again reminded that the rose-colored glasses of good television writing can only be my escape for so long.
So far social media has been overwhelmingly positive, an out pouring of encouragement for people to get to the polls, to go and vote, to exercise their rights and freedoms. I love this. Because I love humanity, granted I can be as cynical as the next person, but at the end of the day I can see the hope and the possibilities that humanity can accomplish. At the end of most days I am optimistic.
My faith gives me that optimism. My faith reminds me that I am a part of this creation, that I am created with and for dignity and that it is my job to make sure that others know that they are loved and created for more. I try to do that everyday, though I know I don’t always succeed. That’s okay I keep trying. On a day like today nothing is more important to me than that.
…and everything was going so well, that is until a little while ago. I’ve started to see the ugly permeate my newsfeed, some of it I can shake off because (unfortunately) it is a part of the news cycle. Some of it however, hurts me deeply. Why? Because it is judgement masked as truth.
I believe in sharing the truth and I honor other’s opinions, it the beauty of our God given free will. What I don’t believe in is using truth to shame others or belittle their thoughts and opinions.
So to my Catholic and Christian friends please don’t tell people that they are not Catholic or Christian if they vote for “so and so,” you do not know their hearts, minds, or consciences, and it is not your job to know. That’s between them and God. I am not suggesting you agree with them, that’s far from the point. I appreciate your voice, I appreciate that you are on fire for Christ and want to share the Gospel. But please take care to not belittle the teachings of Christ by telling others what does and does not make them followers of Him.
Choose to love them. Not in spite of their beliefs and choices, but simply because they are created by God. They are valued by Him and as such should be valued by you.
I don’t need to know who you voted for and why, because it’s none of my business, and more importantly it won’t make me treat you any differently.
I respect and love you too, and ask for your forgiveness on the days when I forget to value and respect you as you should be treated, as a child of God.
It’s been awhile dear (fictional) readers. I know that I was going to try to be better about posting on a “regular” basis. But words are hard. As much as I’ve tried to post even something short and entertaining…I can’t. Unless I truly feel like what I am going to say/type have meaning. That everything I put down in this virtual collection of my whims, thoughts, and opinions could at some point help someone.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine, in the midst of a conversation asked me if I had always internalized my feelings. my reaction was a quick short, “HA!” It was almost as if the response was instinctual. No, I haven’t always internalized my feelings, that was a learned behavior. I could track it back to elementary school, but even more so to certain instances from my early college life. Things happen, people were involved, and words were said…those words have formed me, changed me.
Words. Words. Words.
I could forget everything that happened leading up to these experiences, but I will never forget the words that were said, and I will never forget what they made me feel.
When I was young the greatest lie I was ever told, came in the form a sing-song nursery type rhyme, “sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
I’ll take bruises and broken bones any day over the scars left from things said to me. Bruises fade, bones heal, the scars are a constant reminder of the hurtful things that were said.
Not all words hurt. That’s what makes words so powerful. They can do harm or good. They can scar or heal. They can build up or tear down. Teaching people, children especially that words don’t hurt, is foolish. Why spend time telling the girl crying in the corner that what the other kids say about her don’t matter? To her they do. Why don’t we teach people to be kind? Kindness will get you everywhere in life. You may disagree with me, but then why do websites like Upworthy exist? We are living in a harsh reality where we grasp at good deeds caught on video, like a kid on an unlimited shopping spree at Toys R’ Us. Do kids even like Toys R’Usanymore? Why? Because there’s so much hurt and pain already in the world that we are starved for anything that reminds us of the goodness of humanity.
The problem is that we spend time on YouTube looking at these videos instead of actively engaging our community. It sounds crazy, cliche, and cheesy, but learning how to say hello and smile at those you pass on the street, in stores, and interact with on a daily basis, whether they are known or unknown to you, is a step towards making a change.
If you have already conquered this simple task. Congrats.
So I’ll offer you a more difficult challenge. Try and reflect on all the words that have left scars, now take a deep breath and let them go. Forgive those who said them. Then reflect on all the words that have left you glowing, have raised you up, affirmed you. Hold tight to them. Write them down. Carry them with you.
We so often cling to the negative and brush aside the compliments and the positive. It should be the opposite, but we all know that doesn’t happen unless we work to make it so.
Practice this over and over again, but don’t dwell on the negative, focus on the positive. These words have defined you, in some way, shape, or form, take ownership, don’t let them continue to define you, rather take control of how they’ll continue to influence you now and in the future.
Use your words for good. Words are powerful. Be conscious of your words, especially when directed at others.
A couple of weeks ago I decided to go to a movie. I know this may come as a shock to some of you, because I never go to movies. Ever.
FYI it is really hard to make the written word come off as sarcastically as I need it to sometimes.
I had finished my work for the day, didn’t have anything planned for the evening, and I had a free ticket that was about to expire. So I looked up showtimes and movies that passes were usable at, and I headed out to see Cinderella. The theater was basically empty when I entered, which isn’t all that unusual for a 4pm showing on a Thursday afternoon, so I took my seat in the middle of the row about half way up (my preferred viewing zone), and settled in to be thoroughly entertained.
A couple of other people wandered in, a mom with her two small children, another mom/child duo, and then lastly, two teenage girls, who proceeded to sit directly behind me. Normally, this wouldn’t bother me, but as the lights went down and the previews started, these two young ladies, started to chat (again not bothersome, because I have been known to be that person from time to time), but just before the movie started I overheard this snippet of conversation,
“Is she here by herself?”
“Who?”
“The girl right in front of us?”
“I guess so.”
“Man that’s so sad, it always bums me out to see people out by themselves…”
In the moment following this exchange I thought about getting up and moving seats just to make it obvious enough that I had overheard them, I also thought about just turning around and making eye contact. I chose to not do either of those things, mainly because it wouldn’t have changed what I’d heard, and it wouldn’t have changed her perspective.
And to be totally honest the animated short Frozen Fever that preceded the movie had just started and I didn’t want to miss that!
The movie came and went with little more input from the girls behind me, save the comments about the Prince’s attractiveness and eye color. (Whereas I kept picturing Robb Stark’s horrific death scene). I left the theater content and thought little more about it, until the next day.
Since that afternoon I haven’t been able to get past that comment, “it always bums me out to see people out by themselves.” Well dear one have I got news for you…
To the young woman who sat behind me at Cinderella on April 9th,
I am sorry that my presence at the theater “bummed” you out. Heaven forbid you see people living their lives as they do, especially if it doesn’t fit into the way you currently see the world.
I am not really sorry, I don’t know if you picked up on that, but I am sorry that you couldn’t see me as I am, a young woman, who enjoys going to the movies. A person who got tired of never doing what they wanted to do, because they had nobody to do it with or people who didn’t want to do it with them. A person who had to build up the courage to actually do things on their own, because our world thinks it strange for people to eat out alone, go to concerts by themselves, or to the movies alone. A person who had to ignore the persistent negative feeling when they were out alone that everyone was talking about them and pitying them. A person that once they found the confidence to do these things also found freedom in being able to fly solo. Because I am that person.
I could regale you with stories about what I have seen and the interactions that I have had whilst doing things without the company of others. And trust me you would be more than entertained. But you don’t know me.
Please know that I am not mad at you, but I am a little bummed that you can’t see how awesome it is to see someone who is living their life without regret, because that’s what I was doing, even in the smallest of ways.
Someday I hope you do take notice of those things.
I hope that during the course of living your life, you take chances and discover new things.
I hope that someday you get to travel and see the world, I hope someday you also find the courage to do things alone, that you may normally only do with others. I hope someday you realize how nice it can be to go and see a movie by yourself. Seriously it’s great, especially dramas. And most of all I hope you someday see how normal it really is to do these things alone.
I am not unsocial, I have friends, good ones. I have friends that have driven what you may consider a great distance to see a movie with me, and I have returned the favor. Hell I’ve driven great distances to see a movie BY MYSELF. This doesn’t sadden me, because I am doing the things I want to do. I won’t regret not going to that concert because I didn’t have anyone to go with, I’ll have a great time, and surely have stories to tell.
I may have been alone for that 120 minute period, but I am far from lonely.
Sincerely,
Me.
PS If anyone is truly upset about my Game of Thrones spoiler, please understand that happened two years ago, and you are reading this on the internet.
***Updated***
Apparently Slate and I had the same thought…this is good to and super brief!
Reflecting on the last 28 years of life. A letter of gratitude.
Birthdays, the day of the year everyone celebrates you…or as I found out yesterday, National Puppy Day or National Chips and Dip Day. (Seriously. I had no idea, though I did some research and National Puppy Day started 10 years ago, and I’m pretty sure Tostito’s just made up Nat’l Chip and Dip Day). I’m not complaining. In fact if my birthday went by as barely a blip on peoples radar, I’d probably be okay with that.
She says wistfully, though fully realizes that to make this more achievable she’d have to take it off of Facebook.
2015 has been a busy year, I don’t know where the month of February even went, I can look at my calendar and see I did stuff, but I don’t think I ever registered it was February and now here we are bringing March to a close with April sneaking up quickly.
2014 was a year of surprises and new adventures, I received a grant that has allowed me to continue my education in hopes of a master’s degree, I got to spend 6 weeks in Boston and explore the historic city with the knowledge that I get to do it all over again this summer. I got to celebrate the weddings of good friends, and see others welcome beautiful children into their lives. I was asked to be a bridesmaid, and will soon have a sister who is kind, funny, gracious, and brings out the best in a brother I love most dearly. And there is so much more that took place in my 28th year, those are just some of the highlights.
I have a pretty good memory. I’m not trying to brag, its more just a statement of truth. I remember a lot if not all of my birthdays. For most of my life, my birthday seems to come and go, during my schooling years this was because my birthday was almost always during spring break, I have no complaints, just an understanding and desire for quiet birthdays. Yet as the day came to an end yesterday, I found myself reflecting on the ones that truly stand out.
My fifth birthday, when a friend made me a shirt with puff paint that said Princess Kelly. Yes I still have it. It’s hanging on the wall in my bedroom at my parent’s house.
My eighth birthday, when my mom and dad pulled off a pretty incredible surprise party.
My 10th birthday, when my parents wouldn’t let me open any gifts until 8:30pm because that was my time of birth.
My 14th birthday, the birthday of all the LipSmackers and lip gloss.
My 16th birthday, when I made my own Batman cake and watched the Oscars. And yes the Oscars used to happen in March. I’m not making that up. It didn’t move to February until my senior year of high school.
My 17th birthday, when my teacher made me grilled cheese sandwiches in class.
My 20th birthday, when my friends pulled off an epic surprise dance party.
My 21st birthday, on Easter Sunday (and all the continued/belated celebrations of the following week).
My 26th & 27th birthdays, spent in Butte, MT with a 100 high school youth working their butts off for their Diocesan Convention…
And lastly my 28th birthday, where I was supported and loved by family and friends around the world. Where I was flooded with good wishes, laughter, hugs, and prayers.
Yesterday was my birthday, and to be perfectly honest it was a rough day. In the midst of all the Facebook post and texts wishing me a perfect day, I was dealing the the possibility of loss. Sadness threatened to overwhelm, but thankfully happiness and peace won out and for that I cannot truly express my gratitude in words, but I’m going to try.
My day started off pretty normal…I woke up at about 7:30, not to my alarm, but to the sound of notifications and texts…ahh yes, it must be my birthday. My mom called from Nashville we chatted about the ordinary day that I would have, and she reminded me that she would be heading to St. Louis the following day to spend some time with her mom who has been in the hospital for a while. I told her I’d continue to pray from Grandma and that all would go well. The day started, I went to work, no staff meetings (Reconciliation day) and all was good. Later in the day I talked to my Dad who told me that his mom had had a stroke the night before, and to please pray for her. In need of lightening the conversation we then laughed about my abysmal NCAA bracket. After the call with my dad, and the earlier conversation with my mom, I just needed to be alone. Needless to say I was feeling pretty blue, after a text exchange with a friend, a Facebook post asking for prayers, I received a Facebook message from a former youth who is studying abroad in Rome this year. She sent me a picture (above) and message…
“Hey Kelly! Lit a candle for you at Notre Dame today, I hope you have a wonderful birthday! Thank you for your friendship and guidance throughout the years…”
The message went on, but how can you be upset after a moment like that? I talked to both brothers for 49 minutes each. I swear that wasn’t planned, it just happened. I was sang to over the phone by five beautiful girls. I was sent Jack Handy Quotes, and Snapchat videos, and at the end of it all, as my younger brother said so confidently, “I know it’s been rough, but you’re a good person and today is your birthday, so nothing bad will happen, not today, it just won’t. Got it.”
Got it.
I know I said that I’d be good if the day passed like any other and it’s not that I can’t take a compliment or don’t want the attention, it’s just that I find it hard to have all the focus on me. But I’m changing my mind, because I got the best birthday gift a person could ask for. Love.
The biggest gift of having a birthday is the love that is poured out upon you, and I want to thank you all personally, and on a much larger platform for your friendship, love, and joy.
I am blessed beyond measure by my friends and family, and have decided that my 29th year will be one of gratitude for all of you, and the blessings in my life.
It’s on the internet now, so you can totally hold me to that.
Also I should point out that Mark called me first, but that Chris was the first in the family to officially wish me happy birthday with a text at 6:30am. (It’s always a competition between them but they’re both okay…or best, I guess they can both be the best).
UPDATE
Heard this morning that Grandma Jane (my Dad’s mom) is up talking and doing well! Continued prayers and support would be appreciated. But sooooooooooo grateful for all your good thoughts and prayers!
In the wee hours of the morning on Friday October 31, 2014. I awoke with a start. Apparently my bladder had decided that it was dressing up as fish for Halloween, and would no longer allow me to sleep through the night before going to the restroom.
So imagine my surprise when I rolled out of bed and nearly collapsed, because in fact it wasn’t my bladder at all, but my back that had decided that it was going to take on the pain, I imagine, of someone who had gotten into a bar fight and had been kicked repeatedly in the kidneys, the right kidney to be accurate.
I had not, at least in my conscious knowledge, been in a bar and/or back alley fight in the last 24 hours.
In the five minutes it took me to pace my apartment, suffering the worst pain I’d ever felt, I decided 3 things. 1.) This was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. 2.) Stretching was not helping. 3.) I could not wait the 3:30 more hours for urgent care to open. So I made the decision to throw on my sweats grab my wallet and car keys and head to the ER.
I made it to the hospital safely, (though I should note there were a lot of prayers being said to my guardian angel whilst driving) parked my car and walked into the ER. The person at the check-in desk took one look at me, turned to the nurse next to her and said, “get a wheelchair.” Answering the question that yes, I did look as bad as I felt.
As I was sitting down in the aforementioned wheelchair, the nurse said to me that I looked as white as a ghost, to which I responded, “Well, that will make dressing up for Halloween a lot easier.” She was not amused.
I mean c’mon, I am in the one in pain here and I couldn’t even get a pity laugh? It was clearly a quick witted joke, and a good one I might add. The pain was not hampering my quick wit, in fact there’s a good possibility it was sharpening it. Alas it fell on deaf ears.
They took my information, driver’s license and insurance card, gave me a fancy bracelet with my name and date of birth, in case I forgot who I was and got lost, and rolled me away. Hopefully towards relief.
I know that the bracelet was not for me. This was just something I thought to myself at the time and didn’t say out loud, afraid that the nurse would again not pick up on my humor and just think I was dumb…or in a lot of pain, which I was.
Upon arriving at the room, I was given my hospital gown (oh yeah, when you check-in to the ER you pretty much leave all sense of dignity/self-consciousness at the door, because those gowns don’t boost anyone’s self-esteem), told to change and a nurse would be right in. The nurse came, asked the questions typed the answers and left me to wait for the doctor. While I sat in bed waiting for the doctor, all I could do was stare at the giant clock in my face willing the time to move faster.
After about 15 minutes the doctor came in, did her thing, listened to my story, and decided on a course of action, that required a lot of pain medication. Which by the way, I was totally cool with.
You know how everyone talks about the pain chart, and your pain being on a scale of 1-10. When asked that questioned I stared at the chart, constantly thinking about the Brian Regan sketch that addresses this issue. I eventually landed on a 7.5, Doc however, said I was being generous and that I was probably an 8.
After the doc left to go put in my orders or whatever, another nurse came in with a blanket, and told me I was freezing and really clammy. I immediately kicked the blanket off, because to her what was freezing and clammy felt to me like I’d just finished a really intense hot yoga session. At that point I waited…and paced…and waited…and paced some more.
Self-reflective observation number two of the evening, when I am in pain and/or discomfort and can move I will. (The first observation was that my wit and sarcasm were at an all time high).
Why on earth do they insist on putting a giant clock in the room if they aren’t going to move quickly! (Observation number 3)
After about another 20 ish minutes of pacing, the nurse came in with syringes and drugs! I was going to get some relief.After 3 failed tries to get the IV in both arms, it was time for what was called, “a hot glove,” a fancy medical term for a latex glove filled with hot water. This was to help my vein come to the surface, because I was so cold it was hiding in my arm…FYI the nurse said none of this to me, this was my own personal monologue to myself while all this was happening…except for the “hot glove” the nurse definitely said that.
Finally she hit gold and quickly took some samples and administered the nausea medication, then the liquid ibuprofen (that has a fancier name that I don’t know), then a valium, then last but certainly not least, the morphine.
Now this is where I take a minute to be infinitely grateful that there was no with me in the room (beside the nurse), I have never, to my knowledge, been given morphine. In what I am guesstimating is the 5-10 minutes it took for all of that to finally knock me unconscious, I have no idea what happened. I remember the morphine and the effect the nurse told me it would have, I remember her giving me some water, and then nothing. Until I was woken up to be given Percocet maybe about 40 minutes later. After the morphine, time got hazy. That clock didn’t seem to matter that much once the pain dissipated.
But at least there are no morphine videos of me hiding on someone’s phone! Win!
After the meds I was woken up every so often for a myriad of things, and every time the nurses were finished, they’d fix my blankets and hand me the TV remote, saying I could turn it on if I got bored. I only mention the remote thing, because they were weirdly pushy about me watching TV, almost as if they wanted me to watch it. I did not want to watch TV I just wanted to go back to sleep. Which is what I did.
At about 9 am I was woken up one last time by a new nurse (male) and was told that he was going to take me for a walk around the ER to assess my pain and dizziness. Cool. But I did have to keep my quip about being taken for a walk to myself, I got the sense this guy would NOT find it funny. I got out of bed, properly adjusting my gown, to maintain the last shred of privacy that I could, and then said, “let’s go.” He then said to me, “You can put your flip flops on if you want so you’re not walking on a dirty floor.”
My thoughts in this moment were laughable, I know I mentioned the hospital gown previously, but the back two ties that would keep the gown closed had been cut off, so the idea that I would need shoes so my feet wouldn’t get dirty was hysterical to me. Never mind the fact that this gown is little more than a bib, we wouldn’t want your feet to get dirty!
In the end I obliged him, we took our stroll, I felt no pain and wasn’t dizzy. When we got back to the room, he took my vitals again, confirmed my name and birthday again, then said it was pretty impressive that my pain had gone from an 8-0 andI made a comment about good drugs, WHICH HE ACTUALLY LAUGHED AT! Thank God for finally having someone with a sense of humor.
At this point I was on the downward stretch and was anxious to be sent home so I could sleep uninterrupted.
I will say this, for all the jokes and observations I had about being in the ER. I really am grateful for the help and care I received.
Though on the off chance that one of my nurses or doctors end up reading this, may I offer some advice? It really wouldn’t kill you to laugh at my jokes, even out of pity. It’s not so much about me being funny (which I am) but more about me knowing that you’re actually listening.
Thanks for all you do. Any chance that hospital bill could just disappear into the ether?
Don’t worry you’re not going crazy, you read that right I said SERVICE.
I have thick hair, that seems to like growing. So I grow it until I am no longer patient and then I cut it, and then I donate it.
Sometimes I apply heat to it.
Most of the time it’s up in a bun. (Or a side braid).
I don’t dye it. Or Bleach it. Nothing crazy. Just wash, rinse, towel dry, comb, put up, and repeat a couple of days later.
I’ve been thinking about my hair a lot lately. Mostly I’ve been thinking back to 3rd grade me, who sat down in the chair at the salon one day, pointed at my brother sitting and waiting, and promptly told the stylist, that I wanted “that” hair cut. She asked me multiple times if I didn’t just want to take off a couple of inches, that my long beautiful hair didn’t need to all go away. But I insisted, and she took out her scissors.
Needless to say my mom had quite the surprise waiting for her, when she came to pick us up. But she wasn’t upset. I was happy to have less hair, and she was happy I was happy.
That’s the key. I was happy. It didn’t matter that the stylist had tears in her eyes as she sheared away 11 inches of thick brown hair. To her credit she followed through, however I did notice the lack of clippers being used on me, and I distinctly remember her using them on Mark. It was a compromise. But in the end I had gotten what I wanted and jumped out of that chair being happy with the cut, and ready for the next thing. I didn’t really give much thought post-cut, I was just happy.
My stylist didn’t want to cut my hair due to her fear that I would look too boyish. I mean I already ran around in hand-me-downs from my brother and family friends…the hair would have just added to the already “tomboy” look. But so what? Why was that her problem? I wasn’t labeling myself as a tomboy…that was everyone else. And really who cares if I was mistaken for a boy? Not me. I just wanted the freedom of waking up running a brush through my hair and being on my way.
The joke is that even as a kid with longer hair I just woke up and ran a brush through my hair. I didn’t learn how to put my own hair in a pony tail until I was 11.
I was also being a very pragmatic 9 year old. Summer was starting, my hair was hot and heavy I was just lightening the load, so to speak. We were also preparing to head to Atlanta in July and I had been forewarned that it would be hot and humid, and again I was thinking about my own personal comfort. I mean have you ever been to Atlanta in the middle of July? It’s brutal.
I was a very confident and precocious kid, I wasn’t going to regret the haircut, it didn’t matter to me what I looked like. I just wanted to be comfortable. So soccer shorts, t-shirts, and short hair were the peak of my fashion sense. If I was ever going to be able to pull off that haircut it would have been then. Simply because I didn’t care.
The haircut I wanted at 9 is now a pretty fashionable haircut these days, think Emma Watson post Harry Potter or American Sweetheart Jennifer Lawrence. The problem is, I hit puberty, I started letting what people said about my looks get to me, I started to judge myself critically. Now I could never pull off that haircut. Not without being self-conscious.
Yes I’m still self-conscious. I’m okay with it. I don’t get down on myself, I haven’t take extreme measures to change myself. I am just aware of myself. So I don’t think I look good with super-short hair. Cool. I just won’t cut my hair that short. Easy. I’m still me. I’m still happy. I’m still confident. Yeah, okay every once in a while I have a bad “me” day. And I feel sorry for myself. But those occasions are few and far between, and let’s be honest, everyone has those days, it’s how we deal with the next day that matters. My hair and how I look don’t define me.
So be happy, be you. Love yourself and have your bad days. If you need to make a change, do it, but in a healthy and realistic way. Don’t live up to others’ standards of who you should be, live up to your own standards. Be girly, be androgynous, be boyish, be a princess, be whatever…at the end of the day just make sure that you’re being you.
The good news about always keeping my hair in low maintenance do’s, is that when I need to look a little more “dressy” all I have to do it wear my hair down.
I spent six weeks this summer in Boston starting my graduate studies at Boston College. It was a blast, school was interesting, sometimes challenging, sometimes not, but that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about.
Within an hour of landing back in Montana, I opened my garage door and said hello to my wonderful Subaru, I got in the car, put the key in the ignition, turned it on and proceeded to back out of the driveway. I was on my way…to the grocery store. Huh? I needed to stock up. Normally I’d walk as the store is conveniently close, (closer, in fact than any grocery store around BC) but I had been awake for a long time already and had also run through the Atlanta airport to make my connection, and quite honestly, I was planning on cooking myself a feast, and was conserving my energy for that.
But I digress.
Even though the store was only a block away, I was still nervous to drive. Can you forget how to drive in 6 weeks? Apparently not, but that didn’t stop me from being a bit apprehensive. I shouldn’t have been though, everything went off without a hitch.
I want to say it was like riding a bike, but I’ve ran into parked cars on my bike, more times than I’d like to admit. I also can’t compare it to walking, because I struggle with that as well. Let’s just say I’m deserving of the name Stumbledore. So I’m just going to stop before I embarrass myself…further.
All seemed right in the world, I was back in Montana, I got to experience long summer days again and sunsets that always take my breath away. But the simple of joy of driving quickly lost it’s shine. A couple of days upon my triumphant return to the Big Sky State, I found myself traveling to Helena one afternoon to meet up with my mom and spend the night with her. I hadn’t even gotten out of Bozeman by the time I was frustrated and yelling a people for driving like idiots. Either they were driving too slowly, not using their turn signals, cutting me off, tailgating, what have you. I breathed a sigh of relief upon hitting the interstate, knowing that I would be able to speed up and pass those as necessary. Soon enough however I was yelling at someone who insisted on using the left lane as their own personal road. Because they thought that they may being going fast enough to possibly, maybe pass that car that’s five miles ahead of them. Turning off the interstate for the last leg of the trip, I was counting down the miles until the passing lanes so I could pass the semi that had so rudely cut me off. Eventually we get to the first passing lane, which happens to be on a uphill stretch, I put on my blinker, moved into the left lane, and pressed the gas pedal, only to be cut off again by the same semi who had decided that it was necessary for them to pass another semi. I don’t know if you have ever had this happen to you, but usually semi trucks take a long time to pass car in general, now add in the uphill factor and the fact that this man was choosing to pass another truck that’s about 100 feet long (this is probably an exaggeration, I have no sense of stuff like this). Needless to say I was unable to pass either semi truck in that moment and would then have to wait until another clear passing opportunity. I was livid…
When I get to this point of anger, I have to put on my “Angry Car Mix.” Which has a fair amount of Foo Fighters and Kings of Leon…Rock music that I can sing at the top of my lungs. It always calms me down. I also make a point of not looking at the other drivers as I pass them…I reserve that for those moments when I’m so exasperated I just HAVE to look, to see who’s driving. I made it to Helena and was able to pass the semis after what seemed like hours, but was probably more like 15 minutes. All was well with the world again. My saving grace is thatonce the car has been passed, I am no longer angry.
Now I never got upset or annoyed in Boston, a train ride into downtown was about 45 minutes (the train I took was also above ground for most of the trek so it would almost be the equivalent of taking a bus) plus, driving (I wasn’t driving, I was riding) from campus to down town took about 30 minutes or so…I should also mention that we were only traveling between 3-5 miles. Why wouldn’t someone so prone to getting road rage, not be angry with this? Because Boston has about 17 times more people living there! And that’s not counting the greater Boston area.
My name is Kelly, and I have Road Rage.
I understand that I need to work on my road rage, and I will. Just as soon as the drivers of Western Montana decide to not be dumb.
To put things in perspective.
“Hey Siri, what’s the population of Boston?”
-“646,000.”
“Follow up: What’s the population of Bozeman, MT?”
-“37,300.”
“What’s the population of Massachusetts?”
-“6,693,000.”
“And how many square miles is Massachusetts?’
-“The answer is about 10,600 sq. miles.”
“Okay, what’s the population of Montana?”
-“It looks like the population of Montana is about 1.02 million people.”
An emotional void, cold-hearted, ice queen, hollow, unfeeling.
All of these terms have been used to describe me at some point or another, most more than once, and usually in a joking way. A lot of the time I make the comments about myself, mostly in an I’m-being-super-self-aware-and-self-deprecating kind of way.
But I’m not a sociopath. Promise. At least everything I read on Wikipedia and WebMD tells me I’m not.
In fact, I’m going to let you all in on a secret.
I feel a lot.
Just prepping you that things may get a little personal and a little real…also you should know that just typing that phrase made me all sorts of squirmy…I don’t like to share personal “stuff” especially with people.
To reiterate, I feel a lot. In fact I’m sure my brothers and parents could tell you that there was a stretch in my life where I cried a lot (usually only at home), those years were called adolescence which is also synonymous with puberty. Anything my brothers did could set me off, but after some self-evaluation over the years, I’ve learned that it wasn’t always something they were doing that made me upset, they just tipped the scale. From about 4th grade through 6th grade I was bullied. Which is so interesting to admit, because I had friends, a lot of friends, there were a couple of girls that had moved into my school that for some reason just didn’t like me. And they were cruel in a way only young girls seem to be, and to this day I don’t know what made them want to tear me down, but they did. Some days the tears came due from confusion and hurt, most days the tears came from frustration and anger that none of my friends seemed to care enough to stand up for me, and would spend their free time with the girls that made me miserable.
I got through it, I’m not entirely sure how, just a part of who I am fortunately. At some point down the road I became much more wary of how much I put myself out there emotionally. Open book Kelly became more cynical and more of a closed book with a 10 foot concrete wall around it.
There are cracks in the wall…for example this blog.
I’m not an emotional void…the emotions are just contained…in a vault…that very few people have the combination to.
I don’t bottle up my emotions. No really I don’t! I just try to take a step back and examine my feelings before putting them out into the world. I’m not always perfect, sometimes things get away from me, especially anger and frustration, but I’m much better than I used to be.
So, when I’m happy, I’m happy, when I’m angry, I’m angry. When I’m frustrated (a cousin of anger) I’m frustrated. I’m just guarded. Especially when it comes to the lovey-dovey emotions.
You’re never going to see me standing on a coffee cart proclaiming my love for a person (sorry Seth Cohen). It doesn’t mean I don’t love, I do, I love fiercely but quietly. I’m an incredibly empathetic person, when my friends and family are happy, I’m happy, when they’re hurting I hurt for them.
I’m not overt or public with my emotions, public proclamations of love and public displays of affection make me uncomfortable. (Which may be an understatement).
Which my friends think is hilarious and enjoy purposely making me uncomfortable. *cough* Tiffany and Jake Harrison *cough*
I don’t mind the jokes, I’ve got a tough skin, thanks partly to my 4th-6th grade years and in large part to my family and friends, whom I love more than I am able to aptly express, here or otherwise.
Alright, alright, alright, that enough, I have started to make myself nauseous.
Ramblings on about my life and faith and the adventures in between.